


The Bard and the Owl

by HerbertBest



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Animal Transformation, F/M, Fairy Tale Elements, Fairy Tale Style, Forests, Magical Realism, Romance, Skinwalker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 02:01:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10652634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HerbertBest/pseuds/HerbertBest
Summary: “Oh yeah?” Arin grinned, placed a shiny coin between himself and the bard on the table.  “Bet you can’t tell me the wildest tale and make me believe it, through and through.”“Challenge accepted,” said the bard.And this is the story he told.





	The Bard and the Owl

**Author's Note:**

> I'm proud to announce that this is my hundredth Polygrumps fic! I hope my readers enjoy this one.

The artist let out a soft laugh, leaning back in his chair, contemplating the bard’s expression. “Now,” he said, putting down his charcoal, “that story! THAT one is a load of malarkey.” 

The bard raised his eyebrow at the artist’s comment. He had been a fine companion the other night – quick to pass around the ale, quick to laugh at the bard’s jokes. His comely wife, an enameler who knew the queen, was quick to pass around her own favors. The three of them had shared a warm bed and antic conversation the night before. The artist – Arin, he remembered – had insisted on paying for one last meal and drink before the bard departed from the town.

“It’s as real as you make it,” he said. “Just like any other story that’s ever existed.”

“Oh yeah?” Arin grinned, placed a shiny coin between himself and the bard on the table. “Bet you can’t tell me the wildest tale and make me believe it, through and through.”

“Challenge accepted,” said the bard.

**And this is the story he told.**

_Once, there was a young bard. He had lived much of his life alone, fending for himself and living off of the land, and his only companions were the wild birds who followed him as he merrily played his way through the seasons._

_Many years passed by, and soon the young bard was a man. As much as he loved the woods and the creatures within it who had helped him learn how to survive, he knew that he must leave it soon and fulfill his destiny, seek out fame and fortune and make his way in the world._

_But on his way out of the forest, his lute strapped to his back and a new pair of leather shoes clutched in his hand, he came upon a beautiful woman, lying naked and freezing in the newly fallen snow. The bard was kind of heart; instead of leaving her lie there, he scooped her up and carried her back to his small shack. He was enchanted by her, by the quiet beauty she exuded, and vowed to nurse her day and night until she regained her health._

_When the woman finally opened her eyes, they were a clear, crystalline green, a color the bard had never seen before._

_“Who are you?” he asked._

_“I…” she coughed. “My name is Holly,” she explained. “I’m sorry, I was terribly lost when I fell. I’ll leave as soon as I can…”_

_“No, please stay,” the bard begged. “At least until you finish healing.” For her poor feet had been terribly frostbitten before the bard had found her. "At least let me find you something warm to wear..."_

_“I have something warm but..." she shrugged. "Only if I’m not a burden to you,” she said._

_He insisted that she wasn’t, but something in her eyes showed distrust._

_He vowed on that very spot to woo her into wanting him._

_Time passed, and with every week Holly grew stronger. Dan fed her nourishing broths and breads. He brought her small gifts from the woods that surrounded them – beautiful pebbles of the strangest shades; pine cones that smelled sweetly of thick sap; fine birch branches that she wove expertly into bowls or carved into forks with his hunting knife. Anything that he thought might entertain her he deigned to bring to her._

_But it was his music that won her over. Silly songs about her beauty, and serious ones about the natural order of the world. Old tales about the kings and queens who had died before them. They drew her close to his chest, round-eyed with fright, delight, or laughter._

_She spoke little of her childhood; only that she came from the forest, too, that she had been lonely like he had been all of her life. He dressed her in the greens that suited her beauty._

_It was natural, then that they found ease in each other, joy. Love._

_But as winter melted into spring, the bard’s determination to return to his first plan came back. He did not want to lose the girl; he asked Holly to come with him, but she immediately rejected the thought. So, he sought to extract from her with a promise: she would stay at the cabin until he returned._

_He did not know that creatures like Holly were bound quite literally by their own oaths; in making her promise to stay where she was, she could quite literally not leave the shack when he was gone under any circumstances. And though the young woman had never experienced love before, she agreed to his request, for she adored him with all of her heart._

_The bard accomplished his dream in the little villages and towns surrounding the woods. His stories of the girl of the forest brought him wealth and fame. When he returned to Holly he gifted her with fine jewels and furs, silks and slippers. And though she seemed less delighted by these toys than she did the rocks he’d foraged for her, she smiled for him._

_“When I return,” he promised her, “it will be with a ring for your beautiful hand.”_

_The day before he left on his journey, he woke to an empty bed and the sight of an owl peering at him though the cabin’s window._

_An owl with Holly’s eyes._

_Startled, he tried to come closer to the creature but it flew away from its perch. He ran to the cabin, door, gave chase. The owl was fleet, he could not match its pace – and when it collided with a tree and turned back into the woman he loved, all he could do was cry in alarm._

_Though the bard was numbly astonished by this turn of events, he bent to wipe her face, to help her up. “Why didn’t you tell me?”_

_She frowned, brushing bright autumn leaves from her hair. “I didn’t want you to know.” She shivered, pulling the owlskins closer to her bare breast. “You know I cannot leave this place, now that you have tied me to it. With you returned, I may fly where I wish.”_

_“I…” the bard was astonished into silence._

_“I stay,” she said, “because I wish to be with you. The binding you put on my flesh is only so strong. If you betray our union it will break, and I will be allowed to flee this place for all eternity.”_

_“I promise I will never give you cause.” Her eyes suggested she didn’t believe him. He asked quietly, “Holly? What are you?”_

_She smiled. “A skinwalker. Not a pleasant-sounding name, is it?” She walked with him back to the cabin. “But it is all I know, and it has suited me well. Do you love me still?”_

_He nodded without hesitation. “Promise me you will stay safe.”_

_“There is one more condition,” she said wearily. “You must’n’t tell anyone of my existence. Skinwalkers are hunted for their skills. If anyone knows of me I will be in grave danger."_

_He promised. But now that he knew she was something other than human he could see the cleverness in her, and knew that she was of this place as much as he was. He ignored the thought, the instinct. She would stay. She loved him._

_The bard’s fame spread even further this time. He returned with piles of gold coins, beautiful furniture, a pallet of fine wines and – as he had promised – a ring._

_The band seemed to weigh the girl’s hand down but Holly wore it proudly, watching it glitter in the sunlight. As far as the bard was concerned, this meant forever. When he left her this time, he promised to bring a friar, to marry them together officially._

_On his third trip away from the cabin, the young bard traveled further than he ever had before. He traveled to the very seat of his government, to the center of it all, and heard his name on the lips of the people who lived there. He met dukes, countesses and baronets. They introduced him to the king, who sat on his throne laughing at the slim man and his songs of the old ways and places, of the beauty of falling for a snow maiden._

_“This is the famous story boy? Do you not have anything new for your old king?” he demanded, blue eyes flashing._

_The bard flushed, stammered. His mind scrabbled desperately for words. They came out in a panic. He told of a man who fell in love with a woman who could turn herself into an owl._

_Dread filled his stomach as he realized what he had done. Though the royal court adored him, thrown gold pieces at his feet, offering to patronize him and give him apartments within the royal palace, the bard stammered an excuse and ran for his horse._

_He rode the poor beast through hail and wind, through snow and ice, until at last he reached the woods and the cabin._

_She sat on the steps with her owl skin, and smiled at him gravely. “That you would have remembered your soul instead of your greed.”_

_The aghast bard begged her to stay, but she drew on the owl skin and held it close to her breast. Then he grew angry, shouting that he’d given her so much, done so many things for her – how could she reject him so cruelly?_

_She turned toward him, her own eyes just as cruel. “I liked much more your gifts from the forest.”_

_The bard felt as if he’d swallowed a stone. He followed her quietly into the woods and, before she left, asked, “Is there any way I might mend my ways?”_

_She turned once more. “When you are truly sorry, I will return,” she said. “When you are truly sorry you may call me back.” He saw tears in those beautiful moon eyes of hers._

_He held out a hand for her but she turned and ran from his sight._

_And when he blinked away his own tears, the fleeing being had the sharp beak and thick feathers of an owl._

 

Arin smiled as passed a handful of gold coins to Dan. “I knew you were good, but damn...”

Dan the bard smiled toothily and took the money. “Thank you.”

“Did he ever see the girl again?”

“I don’t know,” Dan said. He pushed a hand through his dry, thick hair and counted the pennies and farthings he’d won over the course of his tale. His riches and fame were far beyond him at the moment, but the girl…

He had explored every branch, every limb in those woods but never found an owl with her enchanting eyes, a maiden lying in the snow, footprints. He closed his own tightly, and again wished her back to him. “I guess that’s for you to decide.”

Arin chuckled, shaking his long haired head, sipping his ale. “If you leave your tales open to be told by others, then you leave them to be claimed by them too. Why tell them at all, then?” 

“I don’t know,” Dan said. When he opened his eyes there was a flash of green, a purple cloak. He watched the woman walk away, her gait unsteady, promising nothing, promising everything and fading away too quickly.

He stood and reached for her, the bearded man fading from his sight.

The words fell from his lips. “I guess I just need to tell them.”


End file.
